Green green grass

I have a confession: I love cutting the grass. Yes I admit I love getting the lawn mower out and going back and forth cutting that grass that just keeps on growing. I find it relaxing. I find it good exercise. I find I think a lot and sometimes not at all. It's a cliché but I love the smell of cut grass in the morning.....oh dear think I'm mixing up my sayings... Apocalypse Grass Cutting Now.

I started young, cutting the lawn at home. There was a lot of it but I loved the achievement and actually I guess it was one of the first grown-up jobs I was allowed to do on my own. I loved the stripes on the lawn from the roller on the mower and I loved how it would transform the garden on a sunny day. Long grass to short grass and all is well in the world.

As I write this I wonder if I have a thing for grass! One of my very favourite things in the summer is to walk along a path of cut grass which runs through long grass. Last year I tried to recreate the look at 88, leaving a swathe of long grass through which I cut a path. But we have children and football was played and the long stems were squashed.

I am very happy though now as the grass cutting season is upon us. I am even happier as we have inherited my mum's lawn mower which has a roller on and a grass collecting box. The grass may not be perfect - it has moss and weeds in - but it's all in beautiful stripes. Oh I'm happy. For me the grass is always green.

Yippee for Tiree

We love islands at 88. Mull, Orkney, Shetlands, Harris, Lewis, Skye, Islay, Seil, Arran and a few Greek islands too in times past. In fact, truth be told there isn't a lot of difference between Greek islands and Scottish ones. The islands of Scotland are scattered with beautiful white sandy beaches and lovely folk and delicious seafood but there is one slight disadvantage  - it may well rain and be cold and be windy and be misty and be wintry even in summer....on the Scottish isles that is.  But when the sun shines it's wonderful. If only the sun was guaranteed but then I suppose the Scottish islands would be as busy and sometimes as commercial as the Greek ones. We like to take our chances and hope for warmth.

A white beach on Mull

I think a huge attraction of going to a Scottish island is boarding a ferry. There is something so very exciting about driving your car on to a Caledonian MacBrayne and setting off across the water. There is a marvellous feeling of getting away to somewhere a long way away. You land on your island and its both familiar and strange at the same time. You've already had a little adventure getting there.

The ferry coming into Arran

This year is no exception. We are off to Tiree this summer - the sunniest place in Britain... oh yes and apparently one of the windiest. Please God, let it break the sunny record again while we are there. White, white, quiet beaches and vibrant flora and fauna. Yippee for Tiree.

Rhubarb, rhubarb, how I love thee

Rhubarb, rhubarb, oh how I love thee. I love your versatility, I love your colour, I love your sharp, sweet taste. Yes safe to say we love rhubarb at 88. We had our first taste of the season last night.

Baked rhubarb is one of the simplest things to do yet so lovely. Cut your rhubarb up into 2 or 3 cm bits, place in a bowl, put in a medium oven. Test it after 15 minutes by getting your potato masher and simply seeing if the rhubarb is succulent by... yes.... mashing it. If it oozes gorgeous pink and red juices it's done. I then add my secret weapon - golden syrup. Sweeten it to your taste. Serve hot or cold with ice cream, custard, cream whatever. Scrumptious.

Rapunzel Diaries 3: Blackpool Tower

Blackpool Tower, Blackpool

I have relatives who live about 5 miles down the promenade from Blackpool and yet I had never been up its famous tower until last year. You might think that's a bit of an oversight for a gal who loves towers but hey I can be patient....just as I'm waiting patiently for my husband to take me up that other famous tower across the Channel.


To tell the truth I do prefer a tower where I can walk up the stairs to the top. At Blackpool it's much more civilised and regimented - up the lift you go. But it's a grand experience. Fabulous views and we did get to go up some steps to the second level. It also has a rather exciting bonus feature in the shape of its glass floor which is rather wonderful if a little disorientating.










There are lots of lovely iron finials and curvy and quirky bits which you don't get on your average stone built folly tower. It's  also a very grand red rusty radiant colour.

There are some extra features: not every tower has an area where you can have a boogie but we got to sit in the famous Tower Ballroom and watch a tea dance which was quite mesmerising even if the seats are rather in need of a refit. And there are some fabulous tiles on the main stairs and foyer - reminders of grander times past.

It's a fine tower. Every city should have one. And I'm pleased that I made it up there at long last.

The Girl from Del Leeds

My mum would take the large pyrex dish out of the oven. Open the drawer, take out a spoon. Open the cupboard, take out a saucer. Under my watchful gaze she would spoon away the brown caramelly skin that had formed  (I would turn my nose up at that) and then take a spoonful of the creamy pudding and put it on the saucer to cool a little. I would then taste that delicious rice pudding.

My job was rather like the Man from Del Monte's job. Do you remember those adverts when the man in white suit and Havana hat would say yes and the orange harvest could begin. He never did say 'No', did he? I was the Girl from del Leeds but I could say yes or no to the amount of sugar in my mum's rice pudding. I was the arbiter of creaminess and sweetness. A lot depended on my decision on the exact flavouring of that rice pudding.

It was so creamy and luscious, baked in the oven for two or more hours with pints and pints of milk (we lived on a dairy farm) and I suspect far too much sugar. It always lived up to its promise of comfort and satisfaction. Never mind the tinned Ambrosia you could buy, this was the real food of the gods.

Then the next day my Dad would eat any leftovers up cold. No need for an extra bowl, just consume it out of the dish it was made in. That way he could scrape all the best sticky bits off the side. I think he sometimes poured golden syrup on. Ah the ritual of a rice pud.

I made one last week. My dessert is probably slightly less sweet, taste buds and lifestyles have changed. But it's still as good. I would have taken a photo but it was consumed before I had chance.

The only problem with a rice pud is cleaning the bowl afterwards - it took me a week to clean after soaking after soaking. Perhaps there was method in Dad's cold consumption of the rice pudding the next day - pour over the golden syrup and eat the bowl clean. It would have made my job a lot easier.

Zoo, zoo, zoo

We're going to the zoo, zoo, zoo. You can come too, too, too. Yep the other day in celebration of my daughter's 6th birthday the four of us from 88 went to Chester Zoo, Zoo, Zoo and we all enjoyed it too, too, too.

Oh there were so many creatures. The painted dogs made a big impression on my son, about 6 of them all curled up together asleep, two of them sleeping head to toe as my children do when they go to stay with their grandparents. The dart frogs were particularly magnificent, all bright green and electric blue but deadly poisonous.

I loved the red pandas. My favourite children's animated film is Kung Fu Panda and Master Shifu, a main character, is a red panda - I tried to stop myself channelling Dustin Hoffman (the voice) through the red panda nonchalantly eating his bamboo shoots at the zoo and tried not to be disappointed when he didn't talk to me in oh so wise words nor attempt any kung fu moves.

The giraffes were the most obliging to their audience, walking majestically between the covered enclosure for people inside and then out again into the sunshine for their fans outside.....if they could  I am sure they would have signed autographs. We marvelled at their unique print designs on their tall bodies as we did with the zebras too.

I found myself uttering 'cute' and 'ahh' a lot and believe me I am not one to fawn over animals. I met animals I'd never heard of and really really didn't realise there were quite so many pigs and hogs roaming the earth.

But do you know one of the most enjoyable pastimes was just sitting down having a picnic in the sun with my family and observing the other curious and weird animals at the zoo that day: homo sapiens.

A pea shoots

Pea shoots - big discovery at 88 over the last three years. Throw a load of dried peas (the kind you get at the supermarket for mushy peas) onto the top of some soil in a container, cover with more soil very thinly and leave, occasionally water and let the sun shine on down.

Just about ready to cut but they will get bushier and taller

They will sprout and eventually you get succulent, sweet pea shoots which are fabulous in salads. They are by far the easiest thing I have so far discovered to grow and pretty full proof. Once you cut them they will even come again. The supermarkets have cottoned on to these now and charge a small fortune for something you could grow with your eyes closed plus you can sit back and feel just a little smug. Have a go.

A Pea Shoots : I have a wonderful image in my mind now of a little freedom fighter pea with  gun in holster (or perhaps even a pea shooter!) about to give it all to a slug about to devour  his little seedling comrades. Power to the peas.